


through chaos as it swirls

by besidemethewholedamntime



Series: it's only goodbye for a little while [2]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, canon to 5x22, determined Jemma Simmons, post 5x22, the Jemma/Daisy talk that I needed, the supportive friendship I want to see more of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-26
Updated: 2018-05-26
Packaged: 2019-05-14 03:48:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,469
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14762033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/besidemethewholedamntime/pseuds/besidemethewholedamntime
Summary: "Through all the insane crap we have gone through, the one thing I’ve known, without a doubt, the whole time, is that you and Fitz belong together.This is not how your story ends."In a quiet moment, Jemma and Daisy have that much-needed supportive conversation.(Post 5x22)





	through chaos as it swirls

**Author's Note:**

> Because I really felt like they'd have a conversation like this at some point, and I just couldn't get it out of my head no matter what I did. 
> 
> A MASSIVE THANK YOU to whistlingwindtree (Fierysky) for the wonderful help and suggestions. I appreciate it immensely <3
> 
> The title is from 'Us Against The World' by Coldplay.
> 
> I hope you guys like it, it was something different for me to write and it was a little difficult but fun all the same!
> 
> P.S. fun fact: this was inspired by me having green soup for lunch on the day I wrote it

Daisy finds her in the containment module, playing with the wedding ring she still hasn’t taken off her finger.

Jemma would much rather have been in the cockpit, scanning all the equipment as it, in turn, scans through deep space trying to find  Enoch’s ship. But she can’t handle the looks of fragility they all give her, as if she might break down at any moment. Oh, they all try to hide them, but as she spends more and more time in front of the screens, unblinking, the looks become more apparent and they keep offering her things like biscuits or tea.

She doesn’t want the pity, and she most definitely doesn’t want the tea (because that was their thing – her and Fitz’s) and, unable to say anything because she knows they’re only trying to help, she leaves, resolving to come back in a few hours when the sense of suffocation has left her.

At first, she went to all of the usual places that would calm her. And then she realised that there was nowhere that could. All of the places that would normally calm her are all of the places where they worked together, and they are so _full_ of him that she couldn’t stomach it and ended up seeking refuge here, in a containment module.

It still hurts here, of course. They had a moment here after the Framework. It was a heart-breaking moment but in a way she had still felt as though they would make it through this, because he had told AIDA that his love for her would never fade and that there was only room in his heart-

_For her._

So, it hurts in here, too. But it hurts in here less than it does anywhere else, so she stays.

“Mack made dinner,” Daisy says, by way of announcement. She stands at the door hesitantly, but when Jemma makes no move to answer her she steps in and leans against the wall opposite. “It’s soup. Well,” and she makes a face, “it’s uh, well it’s green so I don’t know if it classifies as soup exactly but…”

Jemma doesn’t answer, just stares absently into nothing, still twisting her wedding ring around her finger.

“I mean it smelled pretty good for something made in a Zephyr kitchen. Would be a shame not to try some.”

Out of the corner of her eye she sees Daisy’s smile begin to slip into that face of pity again. She heaves a sigh and Jemma knows something’s coming, some words of how she has to take care of herself and eat something or she’s going to be no good to anyone. It might be the truth, it might be good advice, but Jemma doesn’t want to hear it.

“Jemma-”

“Fitz used to make soup.”

She doesn’t know why she says it, or even how the thought popped into her head. It catches Daisy off guard, and she shakes her head in confusion.

“What?”

“He was quite good at cooking.” Jemma drops her eyes into her lap, watching as she twists her wedding ring around again and again. “He didn’t do it very often, but when he did it was really something spectacular. His mum taught him.”

Daisy lets out a laugh, and it’s a good laugh. Those kinds of laughs that come from the good kinds of disbelief, the wholesome sound of facts slotting into place.

“Huh. I guess out of the two of you I would have pegged you to be the chef.”

“I’m alright at it, I suppose. It’s a kind of chemistry, after all. That’s how I knew how to do it, but Fitz was really good.” Tears begin to cloud her vision, and her wedding ring is blurred. “It makes sense, if you think about it. Cooking is all about creation, and so is engineering. It’s about making things with your hands, taking these building blocks and turning them into something magnificent.”

It’s all coming back to her now. The first time he ever cooked her something, when she went home with him for the first time and she met his mum. It had surprised her. At the Academy his room was so messy, everything so out of order. Although he liked a pristine lab space, everywhere else he inhabited was a mess. It turned out that he also made a mess when he inhabited the kitchen. But the soup he had made was wonderful and it felt like home.

“Well when we defrost this Fitz from his ice-box then he’s definitely gonna be making me soup.”

It’s light-hearted and optimistic. It’s trying to make things seem to be the way they were on the very missions they flew on the Bus. When they were all just children, and the world wasn’t such a cruel place.

It makes Jemma’s tears flow faster and she looks up at Daisy, at her friend.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispers, shakily. “I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Daisy is by her side in a second, pulling her in for a one- armed hug. “Hey, what are you sorry for?”

For a moment Jemma doesn’t want to answer, wants to enjoy this embrace for as long as she can, wants to enjoy the feeling of them being closer again. Then she pulls back, stops twisting her ring long enough to brush away the tears from her face and inhales deeply.

“I’m sorry for everything.”

It’s a horrible few moments while Daisy tries to work it out, but when she does her eyes widen she lets out a soft _oh._

“It’s… it’s fine, Simmons. Really, it’s-”

“It’s not _fine._ It wasn’t okay. I shouldn’t have run off like that, but I was just…” her lips are trembling and it’s almost impossible to get the words out. “I was just…”

Daisy gives her a weak smile and places a hand on hers. Underneath she still twists her wedding ring around and around.

“Hey, I get it, you know? You were trying to save the world. And Fitz. He was your husband.” A shrug and a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The use of _was_ makes the wedding ring stall for a moment. “What else were you supposed to do?”

Jemma thinks of Daisy's words.  _What else was she supposed to do?_ Whose side was she supposed to be on? She hadn't believed there were sides and perhaps that'd been her problem. Maybe she should’ve chosen one. But how would she have decided who to pick? Her two best-friends were at war with each other and she’d been caught in the middle. And in the end, while she hadn't chosen a _side,_ she’d made a choice all the same.

“I didn’t choose, Fitz, I just didn’t-”

“You just didn’t _not_ choose him, either.” Daisy’s hand squeezes tighter in comfort. “I never blamed you for what he did, Jemma. Never.”

Jemma nods. “I know you didn’t.” Except she didn’t know, not really, and it’s a balm to her heart to hear Daisy say it.

They’ve come through so much together. They’ve come so far from those children they once were. In the beginning they were so _different._ Jemma was prim and proper, furiously believed in the rules and the institutions that had been upheld for so long. Daisy was Skye and she was rough around the edges, had a smart-mouth, and wholeheartedly believed in doing the wrong thing if it was for the right reasons. They were both naïve about the big bad world, both didn’t understand how deep evil could be, how blurry the lines truly were.

And in a way, Jemma thinks they’ve rubbed off on each other a little bit throughout all these years. There are parts of Daisy in herself, and there are parts of her in Daisy and in a strange way she finds that kind of beautiful.

In the beginning she didn’t trust her, and now she finds she couldn’t live without her.

“I never wanted this to happen, Jemma. You gotta believe me. We had our   _issues_ to work through, obviously, but I _never-”_ Daisy breaks off and Jemma sees the way her mouth wobbles and the tears shining in her eyes. It’s familiar in a heartbreaking way. She has seen Daisy cry far too much lately.  Her next words are almost inaudible. “We were a family.”

_We were a family._

They were a family, and they still are in a way. Except important people aren’t here, people that they both love, have risked the world for, would lay down their own lives for. They're still family, always will be, but it's no use in pretending it'll ever be the same.

“I know,” Jemma says, giving her a watery smile because this time she did know, truly.

They sit there in silence for a few moments, Daisy holding on to Jemma’s hand and Jemma still twisting her ring around and around.

“So what other talents does Fitz have that you haven’t told me about, huh? Is he good at knitting, too? Can he make a mean sweater?”

Jemma giggles, before nodding. “Actually, he is quite good at knitting.”

Daisy rolls her eyes and laughs. “Of course, he would be. Let me guess: his mom taught him that, too?”

“She did, actually. Fitz’s mum taught him so much of everything he knew. It’s because of her that Fitz turned into the most kind, most caring, sweet man I’ve ever met.”

And Jemma’s so lost in the memory of her best-friend, in the man who was her husband, that she almost misses the look on Daisy’s face. What she does see is so fleeting, but it hits her with the force of a freight train and she instantly recoils.

“Oh, Daisy, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even think-”

“It’s fine, Jemma,” she says, giving her a weak smile. “He was,” and she swallows thickly, “a really caring guy.”

Jemma wonders if she would be saying _it’s fine_ so much if he wasn’t dead? She doesn’t want falseness. If Daisy still hates him as she has every right to then so be it. Jemma can handle it. She doesn’t want the false pity, the coddling.

Or maybe the use of _was_ has more than one meaning.

“It’s gonna be so weird when we find him,” Daisy mutters, blowing a breath through funnelled lips. Her hands still haven’t untangled themselves from Jemma’s.

“Yes, it will be quite strange, won’t it? Are you…” Jemma trails off, worrying her bottom lip nervously as she looks at her friend, hoping she’ll know the question she’s trying to ask.

“I don’t know,” Daisy answers. “That’s the truth. I just don’t know.” She squeezes Jemma’s hands. “But let’s focus on finding him first, yeah? Finding him and thawing him from whatever glorified freezer he’s got himself in, okay? We’ll work the rest out later.”

The way Daisy says it, so surely and confidently, reminds Jemma of another time and another place where they had to decide to go on a rescue mission.

_Through all the insane crap we have gone through, the one thing I’ve known, without a doubt, the whole time, is that you and Fitz belong together._

_This is not how your story ends._

The memory of it, and with Daisy sitting beside her, it’s enough for Jemma to voice her fears since they’ve began this search.

“What if we don’t find him? What if he’s lost out there, in space, forever?”

It’s a shock when Daisy takes her gently but firmly by the shoulders and looks her squarely in the eyes.

“We’ll find him.” Jemma drops her chin but Daisy with two fingers, gently brings it back up so they’re making eye contact once more. “We’ll find him, Jemma. I promise you that, okay?”

It’s not a promise she should be making, Jemma thinks they’re both aware of that. But it’s what she needs to hear, to remind herself that she _must_ find him, that they don’t have any other option. They have lost one of him already and they cannot lose another.

Jemma doesn’t think she would be able to survive it.

Daisy’s hands fall from Jemma’s shoulders and she stands up.  “Now, how about that soup? I wasn’t lying when I said it smelled pretty good.”

Thinking of Fitz and the soup he used to make her, and how she would give anything to try it once more, Jemma nods and smiles.

“I’ll be through in a minute, Daisy. I’d just like a moment to myself.”

“Alright.” Daisy nods and heads for the door. “I’m gonna hold you to that, though.” And then she disappears.

Jemma begins to twist her wedding ring again. She isn’t ready to take it off, not quite yet. Once they find him, she will. She isn’t married to him yet and it doesn’t have to be a bad thing. It can be a good thing. They can do it again in the real outdoors and their families can be there, too. Her parents would like that, she thinks. Her mum especially. If Jemma asks her to help plan it, she will be the happiest woman alive.

But it’s as Daisy says, they must focus on finding him first. And sitting here, twisting a wedding ring around her fingers as though it will solve her problems isn’t accomplishing anything.

She thinks of Fitz, and how the first soup he ever made her was green. “It’s leek and potato,” he’d proclaimed proudly, standing in his mum’s kitchen with the most dishes Jemma had ever seen when making soup surrounding them. “I know the colour’s off-putting but it’s actually really good.”

He was right. The soup was really good. She will make sure he makes it for her again, in his mum’s kitchen again, and this time she won’t make a comment about the colour or the dishes or how utterly ridiculous he looked in the tartan apron. Instead she’ll clean the dishes while he’s cooking, and she’ll kiss him afterwards and make sure to tell him about how it’s the best thing she’s ever tasted.

_Just please let me find him. Please let me get him back._

But she’s never believed in letting fate take the reins. If you want something you have to go out and get it for yourself.

So she bloody well will.

_This is not how your story ends._

With a steely resolve, she gets up, and goes to join the others for soup.

_This is not how your story ends._

No, it’s not. They haven’t gone to the bottom of the Atlantic, to Maveth, to the Framework, to the future, saved the world, defied the universe thousands of times over for this to be what separates them.

_This is not how your story ends._

This is how their story begins again.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! Please feel free to leave kudos/comments. Please feel free not to. Either way, I hope you have a lovely day!


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